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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096582">let it burn to the worst degree; let it take you right down to your knees</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj'>ash_mcj</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf Events 2021 [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(with a gun), Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Banter, Beacon Hills Preserve (Teen Wolf), Biting, Bottom Peter Hale, California Wild Fires, Fire, Heavy Angst, M/M, Married Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Mental Breakdown, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Peter Hale Feels, Self-Hatred, Smut, Suicide, Top Chris Argent, Werewolf Mates, petopher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:22:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There were two things that Peter Hale had come to learn about fire over the course of his life. The first was that it was impartial, burning and consuming everything it touched, no matter how pure or undeserving. The second was that it irrefutably followed him, but was never so kind as to finish him off after taking everything he loved.</p><p>[or: Peter and Christopher go out to help with a forest fire in Beacon Hills, and only Peter comes home]</p><p>(Teen Wolf Bingo Square: Future Fic)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf Events 2021 [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let it burn to the worst degree; let it take you right down to your knees</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315135">Repeating history</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutellargh/pseuds/Nutellargh">Nutellargh</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Teen Wolf Bingo Square: Future Fic</p><p>(HEAD THE WARNINGS/TAGS!)</p><p>First chapter is fluff and smut, second chapter is the angst.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sometimes things felt impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like trying to make complex coffee orders for two extremely particular men, before any caffeine had been consumed. It was a miracle that Peter was even able to pull himself out of bed, let alone act as the Hale-Argent household barista - and he didn’t even get paid for this remarkable feat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher was lucky Peter loved him so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the coffee machine </span>
  <em>
    <span>whirred </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the much-needed elixir of life dripped steadily down into the coffee pot, Peter watched out the large kitchen windows at the trees swaying a bit in the onslaught of the powerful wind that had been storming through Beacon Hills lately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter was ready for it to move on elsewhere so his hair would stop being ruined every time he’d step outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the coffee machine finally let out a rather annoying, yet beautiful </span>
  <em>
    <span>beep </span>
  </em>
  <span>alerting him that the coffee was ready, Peter poured it into two mugs. There were few things better than the smell of freshly-brewed coffee - this was indisputable. Even those who didn’t like the taste (who belonged in Eichen) still enjoyed the smell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter poured the perfect amounts of creamer and milk into one - because no matter what Christopher said, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span> and both were very much needed for the perfect taste - and then poured some vanilla extract and honey into the other cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smells good,” Christopher noticed as he came into the kitchen. He attached himself to Peter’s back and hooked his chin over his shoulder to look down at the coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I showered recently - how lovely of you to notice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said it smelled </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>- not like a wet dog,” Christopher said, earning a sharp jab to the stomach from Peter’s elbow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to tell you good morning, but now I feel more inclined to pour your coffee down the drain,” Peter said, turning in Christopher’s arms to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The gun in my nightstand is loaded with wolfsbane bullets, you know. So, go ahead and dump my coffee out. You’ve got a 50/50 chance of making it through the day alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, it turns me on when you threaten me,” Peter purred as he brought his arms up to hang loosely over Christopher’s shoulders, gently pulling him in closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Christopher smirked as he leaned in to capture Peter’s lips in a chaste kiss that distracted the wolf just long enough for him to grab the coffee from around him and pull back with the cup in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter smiled softly as he watched his husband walk around the kitchen island and sit on one of the stools. He brought the cup to his mouth, then pulled away and cocked an eyebrow at Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Christopher asked, squinting at him. “Why are you staring at me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m waiting for you to ingest the poison and trying to come up with what I’ll tell the Sheriff and Parrish when they show up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t planned it out? Sloppy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Peter sighed. “I’m losing my touch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what’s in it? Tetrodotoxin, or plain, boring cyanide?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m classy, Christopher...it’s Aqua Tofana.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher laughed and shook his head, before taking another sip. “Sometimes I wonder why I married a lunatic mutt like you, but then I’m reminded of how amazing you are at knowing the right amounts of honey and vanilla.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I make sure we start the day that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher blew a puff of air through his nose in something akin to a laugh, and shot Peter a fond look, his light blue eyes holding so much adoration that it made Peter forget how to breathe for a few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How someone so gorgeous and </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> fell for him, he’d never know. He didn’t deserve Christopher Argent...not in his kitchen, not in his bed, not in the ring around his finger. But somehow the hunter didn’t see that, and Peter thanked every God daily for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized that he’d moved forward until he had already leaned halfway over the island and was reaching out to hook his hand on the back of his husband’s neck to pull him closer. Christopher easily complied, even going so far as to stand up and set his beloved coffee down on the countertop so that he could take Peter’s face in his hands as they met in a kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter had originally intended for it to be something innocent, but he had no qualms about opening his mouth when Christopher nipped at his bottom lip. He had no idea how, after ten years, the way the man’s tongue sliding along his still made his heart race and his stomach flutter like a teenage girl, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher’s warm, rough hands slid from his face down to his neck, then grabbed the front of his shirt to tug him closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought that they were way too fucking old to be climbing over furniture in pursuit of sex did flash through Peter’s mind for a second, but he didn’t hesitate to clamber over the island and crawl across to his mate. He thought it was pretty damn impressive that he managed to not even break the kiss, and he’d definitely be bragging about it later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter easily slid off the island into Christopher’s waiting lap and moaned softly as hands released his shirt to quickly slip underneath, causing his skin to tingle as they climbed up his abdomen with purpose, making a beeline to tease his nipples and trace over the muscles in his chest. He would climb over mountains of furniture just to feel the firm bulge pressing up into him, proving just how badly his husband still wanted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This perfect man actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. The thought made Peter’s head swim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher used one hand to grip the back of Peter’s neck firmly and his wolf instantly submitted, tilting his head back to allow the hunter to bite into the vulnerable muscle of his neck. Peter whined and grinded himself against Christopher’s groin, but the man retracted his hand from inside his shirt to grab his hip roughly, holding him still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay,” Christopher demanded, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was deeper than usual, more authoritative - he was using his </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunter </span>
  </em>
  <span>voice. And that probably should have made Peter say something snarky, but he didn’t. He could never do anything but </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he used this voice, because it was one of the hottest sounds Peter had ever heard in his life and his wolf had come to relate it with pleasing his mate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, however, make sure to smack Christopher every time he made jokes about him being well-trained. He had to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>sort of dignity, right? Just maybe not in the bedroom. Or, rather, the kitchen in this case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher grabbed the hem of Peter’s V-Neck and tugged it over his head, before tossing it away from them as if it were offensive. By the way Christopher’s eyes roved hungrily over Peter’s newly-exposed torso and his thumbs traced the subtle lines of his hips and abs, Peter wondered if the shirt </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>offending him by existing. He definitely shared that sentiment about his mate’s clothing, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter hummed in approval and ran his fingers through Christopher’s short hair as the man’s hands caressed his sides on their way to slip into the back of his sweatpants. Peter was glad that he hadn’t gotten dressed in his jeans yet - he wasn’t sure if he or his husband could deal with buttons right then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher used his grip on Peter’s ass to coax him to keep grinding rhythmically against his crotch while they panted into each other’s open mouths, breathing one another in. Peter’s brain was lagging a bit, his senses completely overwhelmed by his mate, so he didn’t realize that Christopher had lifted him until he was already deposited onto the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How the hell the human was still able to so effortlessly lift another grown man at his age was a fucking mystery, but Peter was grateful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to take this elsewhere?” Peter asked breathlessly. “The bedroom, perhaps?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher didn’t bother responding right away. He traced his fingers over the obvious line of Peter’s cock through his sweatpants, causing the wolf to shiver. His hands climbed up to Peter’s hips and tugged gently on his waistband, so he lifted himself up by his arms and allowed for the man to slip the last bit of clothing from his body. When he lowered himself back down, the cold granite nipped at his bare skin and he hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The counter isn’t as comfortable as the bed,” Peter grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about we move after I eat breakfast?” Christopher smirked, then lowered his head to swallow Peter’s cock down before he could even comprehend what was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breath was knocked right out of his lungs and his hands flew to Christopher’s hair as Peter focused in on the hot, wet suction of his mate’s mouth. He also faintly registered the feeling of hands running from his ankles up to his thighs, then back down again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even after all these years,” Peter said as he tugged at Christopher’s hair and crossed his ankles behind the man’s back to box him in, “you </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>manage to catch me off guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher let out an acknowledging hum that vibrated deliciously through Peter’s abdomen and the wolf’s eyes fluttered shut. He moved up and down Peter’s length slowly, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, until Peter’s thighs began to flex and a desperate whine built in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled off before Peter was able to finish and used his large hand to push him backwards by the chest. Peter laid back and almost stuttered out a few curse words as he felt him lick his way down. He mouthed at his balls very briefly, before moving lower and licking a flat tongue over Peter’s hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>believe that you’re going down on me in broad daylight in our kitchen,” Peter laughed. “You make us check the curtains before we fuck in our bed in the middle of the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher pinched his thigh harshly and Peter moaned, his head dropping back on the countertop as he headed the clear instruction to shut up. If his husband was going to keep laving his very talented tongue over his asshole, he had no problem with stopping talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter arched his back slightly when he felt Christopher’s tongue point and draw a ring around his hole, before pushing in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Peter sighed shakily as Christopher tongue-fucked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he brought his face away and the cool air clung to the spit, Peter let out an annoyed huff - but then Christopher was peppering kisses along his hip bones and breached him with one finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I couldn’t keep you on your toes, you wouldn’t have married me,” Christopher reasoned, opening him up by slowly moving his finger in and out. Peter almost tried to retort with something, but then a second finger was pushed into him and he just let out a strangled sound and clenched his fist tighter into Christopher’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lube,” Peter growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher chuckled lowly and leaned over him to bite Peter’s earlobe as he reached out to grab a bottle from the countertop. “We’ve got olive oil right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then fucking - Argent - <em>c'mon</em>!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I love when that pretty mouth forgets how to speak,” Christopher mumbled against the sensitive skin behind Peter’s ear. “But not as much as trying to get you to lose control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was some twisted hunter part of him that made the man strive for getting Peter to shift during sex - but Peter had no complaints. He had remarkable control over his shift...so when Christopher managed to get an unintentional eye flash, he fucking earned it in the best way possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter had never met anyone that could make him lose control, before Christopher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smashed his mouth against Peter’s again with much more teeth and biting than could probably be considered kissing, as he uncapped the bottle of oil. He poured way too much on his fingers in his haste to get back into the wolf, but Peter didn’t care in the slightest about the mess dripping onto the floor as Christopher entered him with three fingers, and he let out a choked cry and slammed his head back into the countertop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After about thirty seconds, Peter pushed himself up onto his elbows and said, “If you don’t get in me already, I’ll take care of it myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you’re a brat,” Christopher laughed, but withdrew his fingers to stroke himself a few times as he poured the oil over his flushed cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A brat who needs to be filled already,” Peter agreed, because he knew as well as his husband that there was no point in denying it. That was the way they worked - Christopher was the sturdy, heavy hand, and Peter was the wild card that the hunter loved putting in his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher grabbed under Peter’s knees and pulled him towards him so he could situate himself between the wolf’s legs, lining himself up with his entrance. Peter eagerly put his feet on Chris’ ass and pulled him closer, wanting to feel him inside of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me?” Christopher teased, ghosting his fingers over Peter’s stomach and making the muscles tighten in his wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Peter huffed. “I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, you cocky son of a -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher gripped Peter’s thighs and gave a strong push into him, bottoming out in Peter’s ass and causing them both to moan loudly. They were still for a long moment as Peter adjusted to the feeling of being so full and Christopher licked up the side of Peter’s neck in a claim that had Peter’s wolf stirring lustfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Christopher began moving within him, the thought of how utterly ridiculous this relationship was flitted through his mind. After everything that had happened between them, between their families, they were fucking on their kitchen counter. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span>; the hunter and the wolf. And they were in love in a way that Peter hadn't even known existed prior to finding peace in the man’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those thoughts were pushed away by the ever-growing awareness of the way Christopher felt as he slid in and out of him, the way biting kisses were being left down his neck and chest, and the sounds of choked-off, desperate noises that Peter was too blissed-out to be embarrassed were coming from his own mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scent of olive oil was drowned out by the strong waves of arousal and sweat coming from the man over him - Peter’s favorite smells. He was so focused on the taste of his mate’s skin on his tongue as he mouthed at his shoulder, that he hardly even noticed when he was pulled off the counter and lowered to the ground. It wasn’t overly graceful, but this was sex between a wolf and a hunter...they weren’t a graceful match.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter gasped as Christopher’s slick hand began tugging at his cock in rhythm with the thrusts, and found a familiar heat building in his gut much faster than he expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck Argent and his ability to so quickly tip him over the edge like an inexperienced, hormonal teenager. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter grabbed Christopher by the throat as his claws elongated and pressed into the sides of his neck. Christopher began pounding harder into him, viscous and primal, as he stimulated his prostate with every thrust. Peter felt his teeth sharpen against his lower lip and watched the reflection of the blue glow in Chris’ blown pupils.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher’s movements became erratic and Peter knew he was close, so he tightened his hand around his throat and pulled him towards himself to be able to nip at his lower lip. He came with a strangled shout and Peter let go of his throat to hear the gorgeous filthy noises his lover made. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as his hand had left the skin, Christopher grabbed his wrist and slammed it down on the tile floor. He pumped Peter's cock in his hand with renewed effort and leaned in to bite roughly into the muscle where Peter’s shoulder connected to his neck. Peter roared as he felt the dull teeth break skin and he was tipped over the edge into his climax, which pained both of their torsos with stripes of white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher released his neck and Peter immediately chased his mouth to kiss him lazily, which the man indulged for a minute or two before rolling off of him onto the floor, a content smile on his flushed face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once their brains were back online, they looked at each other and couldn’t help but break into breathless laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old are we again?” Christopher asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were pushing fifty, but apparently they were no better than a couple of horny teenagers, unable to keep it in their pants through breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I try my best not to think about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter thought he could lay there on the kitchen floor for the rest of his life, basking in the heady scent of sex and Christopher Argent - but, of course, he couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek made sure of that by calling and ruining their post-coital bliss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter groaned as he grabbed the phone off the counter and accepted the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where are you?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Derek asked urgently as soon as the call connected, his voice laced with an underlying panic that immediately sobered Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At home with Christopher, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The Preserve is on fire - you don’t smell it? It’s nearing your house.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Peter felt his blood run cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hurry up and get out of there. We’re meeting in town.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be there shortly.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much to my amazing friend Nutellargh for writing her heart-breaking fic that inspired me to write this one, and for even allowing me to write this (which is essentially a rewrite that will give me closure, since hers ended on a much more open note and I want traumatic finality)</p><p>(If you choose to stick around by subscribing to read some super angsty Peter feels in chapter 2, well...we can cry together. It should be posted soon.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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